


A Little B & D Comfort

by PFL (msmoat)



Series: The Rosie Series [1]
Category: The Professionals
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-01
Updated: 2008-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-10 17:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmoat/pseuds/PFL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bodie takes a tumble. Doyle is...not entirely sympathetic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little B & D Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> _Written for Rosie, who took a tumble of her own. Six weeks is a long time to be in a cast! This was meant to help pass the time._

Bodie settled into the chair with a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh. The crutches clattered to the floor next to him.

"Why don't you have a bloody footstool?" Doyle looked around the room.

"Six weeks. Six sodding weeks."

"Well, if you will go parachute jumping." Doyle shoved the coffee table in front of Bodie. "Get your foot up on that."

"I _wasn't_ jumping." Bodie heaved his leg and cast onto the table. "Need a pillow for that."

"You're lucky I'm here at all. And you were going to jump."

Bodie sighed. "I was going to jump."

"So it amounts to the same thing."

"I could have tumbled down that path anywhere."

Doyle grinned at the combination of indignation and depression in Bodie's tone. "But you were on your way to a jump. Cowley did not approve, I take it?"

This time, the sound Bodie made was definitely a groan. "Don't remind me." Bodie transferred his gaze to Doyle. "And _that_ reminds me--where the bloody hell were you?"

Doyle raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. "When?"

"Don't give me that. You were the first person they called."

Doyle thought about it. "Second."

"Doyle."

"I'll fetch that pillow, shall I?" Doyle made his escape into the bedroom. He returned with a pillow that he deftly placed beneath Bodie's cast-encased ankle. "Tea?"

Bodie looked at him, but all he said was, "Yes, please."

Doyle made tea, found the chocolate-covered digestives, and brought the lot back to Bodie. He still hadn't come up with a good excuse, however.

"Ta." Bodie sank back in the chair with his tea, and no biscuit. He looked as if he'd gone ten rounds with Macklin.

Doyle sighed. "If you must know, I was cat-sitting." He sat down on the sofa, at a right angle to Bodie.

"Cat--" Bodie sat up straighter, and a grin curved his mouth.

"Sitting, yes." Doyle handed the plate of biscuits to Bodie, who took one.

"Who in bloody hell would trust you--"

"I'm very good at cat-sitting!"

"I hope you left your gun at home."

"Would you shut up and eat your biscuit?"

Bodie did as he asked, but he made a sound suspiciously close to a chuckle.

"It was either that or stay with an infant so my _other_ cousin could do it."

"Ah." Bodie toasted him with the tea cup. "I'd've chosen the cat too, mate."

"Cats."

Bodie looked at him. "Plural."

"Plural." Doyle waited through the resulting snicker. "You do realise--six weeks: no sex."

"What? Damn." Bodie set his cup down and wiped at the tea stain on his shirt. "Bastard."

"Serves you right. Going off parachute jumping without Cowley's prior approval."

"I _didn't_ jump. And it's my ankle that's broken, not--"

"Yes, but think of the doctor."

"You never saw my doc--"

"Not yours--mine!"

Bodie frowned. 'Yours?"

"If you think I'm going to explain great bloody bruises...."

"We'll improvise."

"I'll bring the cats to keep you company, shall I?"

"Come here, Doyle."

Doyle grinned. "Not such a fool as that, am I?"

Bodie looked at him.

"That might work a treat wtih the birds, mate. But I'm Macklin-trained."

Bodie rolled his eyes. "You're going to enjoy yourself for the next six weeks, aren't you?"

Doyle considered. "Yeah."

"But if I don't have sex, then--"

"We'll improvise." Doyle stood up, moved over to Bodie, and eased onto his lap.

Bodie put his hands on Doyle's waist, his fingers spread on his back. "I could quite like this."

Doyle leaned down and kissed him. "Hmm. Six weeks of no one shooting at you."

"I'll need something else to get the adrenaline going then, won't I?"

Doyle kissed him again. "Only one problem with that."

"What?" Bodie's eyes looked heavy.

"I'm off to Manchester."

You what?" Bodie's hands tightened on Doyle.

"Op."

"Who's going with you?" Bodie's voice was hard.

"Anson."

"Dammit."

"It came up suddenly, while you were in hospital."

"Ray...."

Doyle kissed him when his voice trailed off, and he felt all that Bodie wouldn't have said. "I'll be back by the weekend."

"You'd better be." Bodie sighed. "When do you leave?"

"Tonight." Doyle smiled. "Got a few hours. Anything I can do for you?"

Bodie slid a hand up to Doyle's head. "I can think of a few things."

Doyle resisted the pull. "Yes, but food might be good."

"Hmm." Bodie undid the buttons on Doyle's shirt.

"The cat offer still--" Doyle's words were stopped by Bodie's mouth. When next he could speak, he whispered. "I'll miss you too, mate."

"Let's go to bed."

Doyle helped him to his feet, and handed him the crutches. "Don't trip. Again."

"Shall I put bruises where Anson will see them?"

"Nah. Just my luck, it would turn him on."

Bodie looked at him. "If you come back stinking of cigars...."

"That's inevitable." He frowned as Bodie made slow progress towards the bedroom. "Listen, are you going to be--"

"Ray." Bodie propped himself on his crutches and reached out a hand to Doyle's face. "I'll be fine. As long as you come home."

"I'll keep that in mind, then."

"Do."

"Pain medication turns you soppy, does it?"

Bodie resumed his journey towards the bedroom. "You're the one handing out tea and biscuits."

"Ah, well, you faced Cowley on your own."

"I told you not to remind me." He paused, and glanced at Doyle. "What about the cats? Is your leaving a problem?"

"Well, mate. Funny you should ask...."

END

_July, 2008_


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